RP:Glorious Oblivion
"Oh build your ship of death. Oh build it! / For you will need it. / For the voyage of oblivion awaits you." --D.H. Lawrence, The Ship of Death GLORIOUS OBLIVION =Introduction= It is the year 2552, the month of December. Earth is under siege by hostile Covenant Loyalist forces, and Humanity is on the verge of being utterly destroyed. This is the story of Humanity's struggle for survival, the Loyalist's quest for honor, and the Seperatist's search for truth. This is Glorious Oblivion. This is the battle for the Sol System. This is war. Insert your character on any of the three major fronts: Earth, Luna, or Mars; add them to the list below, read over the rules, and begin. Good luck to you. You'll need it. Participants After recieving an invite from Spartan-091, post your name below. *SPARTAN-091|Admin| HelmetComm 00:32, 19 September 2007 (UTC) MODERATOR *''"Our Business is Life itself"'' Umbrella Corporation Communications ProductsMODERATOR * Kebath 'Holoree "Data Access" *AJ *Just Another GruntConverse *--Petty Officer First Class SPARTAN-G023 Comm Channel *[[user:RelentlessRecusant|'RelentlessRecusant']] 'o the Halopedia Team http://images.wikia.com/rainbowsix/images/7/73/GDI2.jpg TALK • MESSAGEMODERATOR *-Anno 'Rhculee(Recieve Commands from me)( ) *35pxSpartan-064,≈≈Ω≈≈Demakhis http://www.wikia.com/skins/common/progress-wheel.gif Reporting • *-- The State(Our Decrees and Law)( ) 00:06, 23 November 2007 (UTC) *Spartan 112 05:40, 23 November 2007 (UTC) and i dont have any special sig so BOO YA *'Master Gunnery Sergeant Hank J Wimbleton IVCOMHalo: Galaxy' 22:20, 23 November 2007 (UTC) *SPARTAN-118 *Chief Petty Officer SPARTAN-039T COM Link *-- *Hollywood 02:53, 25 November 2007 (UTC) *CAF Master Corporal Spartan 501 * General TonyTalk 11/28/2007 Characters Spartan-091 *Role: SPARTAN-091 **Location: Chicago, North America, Earth **Status: Active *Role: UNSC AI JLT 8011-10 "Juliet" **Location: SPARTAN-091 Neural Network **Status: Active *Role: 1st Lieutenant Skadi Kobolds **Location: Chicago area, North America, Earth **Status: *Role: Captain Sylvie Grey **Location: UNSC Frigate Fountain of Spring, Earth Orbit **Status: Active *Role: 2nd Lieutenant Miles Jaeger **Location: ODST onboard UNSC Fountain of Spring **Status: Active RelentlessRecusant *Role: Dieter Friesen, UNSC Marine Corps 3rd Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta (SFOD-D) **Location: Earth **Status: Unknown 117649 Annihilative Repentance *Role: Colonel Nicholai Grevdaeht **Location: Luna **Status: Not yet active Kebath 'Holoree *Role: Supreme Commander 'Holor **Location: Mars **Status: Not yet active AJ *Role: SGM Arnold Lewis **Location: Kenya, Africa **Status: Active *Role: Brute Chieftian Jarvargus **Location: In Orbit around Earth **Status: Active Just Another Grunt *Role: Sergeant Valea **Location: Earth **Status: Active *Role:Prophet of Vigilance **Location: Luna **Status: Active **Other:One of the main leaders of the Seperist forces. *Imogo Oth Warpol **Location: Luna **Status: Active **Other: Lolna's "Brother", currently gaurdign Vigilance *Role: Lolna Oth Waluig **Location: Luna **Status: Active **Other: Imogo's "brother", currently gaurding Vigilance *Role: Qzech'Mere **Location: En route to Earth **Status: Active **Other: Leader of a Loyalist Drone Lance Spartan G-23 *Role: SPARTAN-G023 **Location: en route to Mars **Status: Active **Other: SPARTAN-III Gamma Company, Squad Leader *Role: Team Murmillo **Location: Mars **Status: Active **Other: SPARTAN-III Gamma Company Team *Role: Maverick-060 **Location: Luna **Status: Active **Other: SPARTAN-II, Red-5 *Role: Havargus **Location: Luna **Status: Active **Other: Brute Stalker *Role: First Lieutenant Peter Lewis **Location: Pacific Coast, Earth **Status: Active **Other: Marine Corps First Lieutenant overseeing the delivery of a nuke *Role: Special Operations Commander Kwas 'Pudmee **Location: UNSC Desert Fox **Status: Active **Other: Covenant Elite, Covenant Special Operations Commander Anno 'Rhculee *Role: Anno 'Rhcul **Location: en route to Luna **Status: Active *Role: Vera 'Zenor **Location: en route with Anno 'Rhcul to Luna **Status: Active *Role: Senior Chief Petty Officer First Class CHRIS-087 **Location: en route to Earth **Status: Active Demakhis *Role: Imperial Admiral Dyr 'Jar Refos **Location: En route to Mars **Status: Active *Role: Major Domo Hasus 'Redonn **Location: En route to Mars **Status: Active *Role: Kemgor **Location: En route to Mars **Status: Active *Role: Ultra Sin 'Vordyee **Location: En route to Luna **Status: Active Spartan 112 *Role: The six Members of the Sacred Shadow Special Operations Lance **Location: En Route to Mars **Status: Active SPARTAN-077 *Role: Brachshaw, **Location: Onboard the Cleanser, with the Covenant Fleet in orbit around Earth and Luna. **Status: Active *Role: Zeta Squad **Location: Onboard the UNSC Autumn, in orbit around Earth. **Status: All members active *Role: Linda Farr **Location: Luna **Status: Active *Role: SPARTAN-077, Edward **Location: Onboard the UNSC Autumn, in orbit around Earth **Status: Active *Role: Rhino Squadron **Location: Onboard the UNSC Necropolis, awaiting orders. **Status: All members active Rotaretilbo *Role: Fleet Admiral Sir Terrance Hood **Location: Aboard Cairo Station, an Orbital MAC Defence Platform, gyrosynched orbit over Cairo, Egypt, Earth **Status: Active **Other: Commanding Officer, All UNSC Space Forces *Role: Vice Admiral Cory Johnson **Location: Aboard UNSC Winston Churchill, a Marathon-class cruiser, space above Earth **Status: Active **Other: Commanding Officer, Earth UNSC Space Forces *Role: Commander Brandon Rebuga **Location: Aboard UNSC Desert Fox, a newly captured Covenant cruiser, space above Earth **Status: Active **Other: Commander of UNSC Desert Fox *Role: Lieutenant Bryan Hänkel **Location: Aboard UNSC Desert Fox, a newly captured Covenant cruiser, space above Earth **Status: Active **Other: N/A *Role: Master Gunnery Sergeant Hank J Wimbleton IV **Location: Aboard Honorable Vassal, a Covenant light cruiser, unknown location **Status: Active **Other: Unknown *Role: Ship Master Ligi ‘Fleomee **Location: Aboard UNSC Desert Fox, space above Earth **Status: Active **Other: Ship Master of Enduring Faith (aka UNSC Desert Fox); prisoner Matt-256 *Role: First Lieutenant Jane Parkinson **Location: Luna **Status: Active **Other: Commanding 5th Battalion's Third Company, which is currently stationed at Luna Station Gamma fighting off Covenant forces. *Role: Special Operations Major Shn'co Sthr **Location: Luna **Status: Active *Role: Master Gunnery Sergeant Dean Jackson **Location: Mars **Status: Active **Other: Commanding a small squad of Marines that are trying to disable a Covenant AA-Gun. *Role: Chieftain Taurus **Location: Paris, Europe, Earth **Status: Active **Other: Commanding a large pack of Brutes who are currently attacking Paris in France. *Role: Admiral Yakubu Agahowa **Location: Onboard the UNSC Devastator **Status: Active **Other: Commander of the Helios Defense Group stationed above Luna. *Role: Special Operations Commander Anfa 'Dela **Location: On Luna **Status: Active **Other: Commander of a Special Operations Unit. SPARTAN-118 *Role: Vice Admiral Will McKay **Location: En route to Earth on the UNSC Normandy to assist the defense of of Earth. **Status: Active *Role: Ship Master Amje 'Ailot **location:In route to Earth on the Everlasting Grace to 'reclaim' forerunner artifacts **Status: Active Lordofmonsterisland *Role: Captain Jim Wilson **Location: In orbit of Earth onboard the [[UNSC Annihilator|UNSC Annihilator]] **Status: Active *Role: The Seven Members of the First Team Alpha **Location: In orbit of Luna onboard the [[UNSC Thermopylae|UNSC Thermopylae]] **Status: Active *Role: The Seven Pilots of the First Dragon Squadron **Location: In orbit of Earth onboard the [[UNSC Annihilator|UNSC Annihilator]] **Status: Active *Role: The Four Members of Delta Team **Location: On Earth's surface **Status: Active *Role: The Eleven Members of the Squad of Unrelenting Reparation **Location: En route to Mars onboard the Endless Justice **Status: Active Hollywood *Role: Staff Sergeant Pierce Hae-jin Hayase **Location: Earth **Status: Active *Role: Lieutenant Andrew Sharp **Location: Earth **Status: Active - Pilot of Pelican Romeo-017 *Role: Lieutenant Christian Berkley **Location: Earth **Status: Active - Copilot of Pelican Romeo-017 *Role: Crew Chief Hunter White **Location: Earth **Status: Active - Crew Chief of Pelican Romeo-017 User:Spartan 501 *Role: The Spartans of Sage Team **Location: Earth, currently in Sydney, varies **Status: Active *Role: Brock Juno **Location: Luna, Luna Garrision F/A/72, varies **Status:Active **Other: 145th Naval Sqaudron *Role: EABT Seargent Jack Richards **Location: Luna, Letrone Crater, Varies **Status: Active CommanderTony *Role: Major Anthony J. Stubblefield **Location: Berlin, Germany, Earth **Branch: UNSC Marine Corps **Unit: 2/27 Infantry Regiment, 501st Marine Division **Status: Active =Rules= #There is a limit on Spartan characters. There were only 33 Spartans after genetic alteration. But, many died in battle. There are only 17 Spartans left alive. All Spartans must be approved by the Chief Moderators. #Forces are only Covenant, Human, and Forerunner constructs. There are Flood on Earth only, but Annihilative Repentance is in charge of them. #Please remember that the Humans are impossibly outnumbered, and that they can't win many battles without a large casualty list piling up. Covenant weapons are extremely formidable. #Not all Elites like the idea of working with Humans. Keep this in mind. #There is to be no "teleporting"; i.e. moving your character to another planet just to save him/her. #Transport between Fronts is limited, and ships are hard to come by. All transits must be approved by a moderator. #Please sign at the top of your posts and include the name of a background music track that you think would go along with your post. Put the track name and the artist in italics at the top of your post. #Please get permission from another person before eliminating their character. If you do not, you will be penalized. #At least try to play a Covenant character along with your Humans; this adds a little variety. #Your character cannot come out of this fight unsccratched! He/she must have at least on injury before the RP is over (Thanks to AJ for this rule is to defeat god-modded characters!) #If unsure about something, please ask a Moderator. #Please consult the talk page for more in-depth rules on starships and inter-planetary defense. =Fronts= Earth *SPARTAN-091 **Juliet *1LT Skadi Kobolds *Captain Sylvie Grey (in orbit) *2LT Miles Jaeger (in orbit) *SGM Arnold Lewis *SGT Jeff Valea *Senior Chief Petty Officer First Class CHRIS-087 *Zeta Squad (in orbit) *Fleet Admiral Sir Terrance Hood *Vice Admiral Cory Johnson *Commander Brandon Rebuga *Lieutenant Bryan Hänkel *Ship Master Ligi ‘Fleomee *Chieftain Taurus *SPARTAN-077 (in orbit) *Captain Jim Wilson (in orbit) *Dragon Squadron (in orbit) **Joe Harrison **Michelle Walters **Donald Summers **Randall Cragin **Sherri Black **David Davis **June Della *Delta Team **Lead **Ratchet **Burns **Sarge *Peter Lewis *Special Operations Commander Kwas 'Pudmee *Brute Chieftian Jarvargus *Vice Admiral Will McKay (In route to Earth) *Ship Master Amje 'Ailot (In route to Earth) *Qzech'Mere (In route to Earth) *Sage Team **SPARTAN-016T **SPARTAN-022T **SPARTAN-044T Luna *Anno 'Rhcul *Vera 'Zenor *SPARTAN-060 *Prophet of Vigilance *Imogo Oth Warpol *Lolna Oth Warluig *Linda Farr *Brachshaw (in orbit) *Nicholai Grevdaeht *First Lieutenant Jane Parkinson *Shn'co Sthr *Team Alpha **Roy Koel ***Clyde **Edwin Davis **Lisa Davis **Kymberli Wilson **Jerry Peters **Marshall Black **Amy Black *Havargus *Admiral Yakubu Agahowa *Anfa 'Dela *145th Naval Squadron **Major Brock Juno *Staff Seargent Jack Richards Mars *Imperial Admiral Dyr 'Jar Refos *Major Domo Hasus 'Redonn *Kemgor *Ultra Sin 'Vordyee *Supreme Commander 'Holor *Team Murmillo **SPARTAN-G023 **SPARTAN-G059 **SPARTAN-G202 **SPARTAN-G331 *Special Operations Lance Sacred Shadow **Uasu 'Sojam **Ckpe 'Cinot **Asbe 'Cinot **Orbe 'Yatut **Eysu 'Eojus **Idbe 'Vadum *Master Gunnery Sergeant Dean Jackson *The Squad of Unrelenting Reparation **Jemsal 'Emvadson **Ketynic 'Ilwol **Nibesa **Jaig **Ank **Luzzda **Cer Muso Coun **Den Muso Hico **Jarikus **Samorulan **Ameigh Broley =Roleplaying= 1 Breathe Into Me- Red Jared-091, SPARTAN-II, looked at the remains of what had once been a thriving metropolis, a bustling city on the Cradle of Humanity. The cradle which had been invaded by bloodthirsty aliens bent on humanity's utter destruction. ONI had pulled him back to Earth after the Manheim campaign, and assigned him to the barracks in Chicago. The barracks, and half of its Marine garrison were now destroyed, burned away by Covenant plasma. He had to admit, the most unexpected alliance had come from the Covenant "Seperatists", as they dubbed themselves. He heard that his brother-in-arms, John, was now working closely with the Elite leader, The Arbiter, but had no idea where they were. His current objective was to defend the city's last remaining anti-air defenses, which kept the Covenant capital ships off of the giant generators that powered the Super MACs in orbit. Waves of Brutes, Grunts and Jackals had already assaulted his position, but his ODSTs and their officer, a former ONI Valkyrie named Skadi Kobolds, had thrown them back each and every time. "We could have handled them ourselves, I'm sure, but their help is nice," the voice in his head quipped in an angelic tone of flippancy. "Sure, I know. We want as many humans left alive as possible, though Juliet. Keeping them with me helps them survive that much longer," he said, reloading his SRS99C-AM4 sniper's rifle. Another Brute chieftan swinging a gravity hammer was brought down with a headshot. The Grunts under his command panicked, but were pressed forward by the Brute pack behind them, charging straight into the withering hail of fire laid down by Skadi's turrets and Scorpion. The commander of the last armored vehicle at the sigt hollered in approval as his gunner blew away a Phantom dropship still entangled in the act of dropping off its troops. Blue fire dimmed Jared's blast-shield as the craft exploded, killing the nearest Covenant. An ear-splitting roar deafened him temporarily as the SAM-IRX missile launcher behind him sent its speeding projectiles after a Seraph fighter that strayed too close to the generator complex. "I wish we had more of us," Jared sighed, sighting back in on the oncoming Loyalists. "So do I, Jared. So do I." SPARTAN-091|Admin| HelmetComm 01:15, 28 November 2007 (UTC) 2 Lewis pulled back the bolt on his BR-55HB SR. Their mission was to ambush a pack of brutes, one led by a Cheftain. Only the best Marines in his regiment were selected and he was picked to be the leader. A SPARTAN-I, Lewis knew more about combat than some of the Generals. He turned and he saw two members of his squad, fumbling with M7 SMGs. Lewis picked one up, silently cleared the bolt, reinserted the magizine, and fired into a nearby tree. He handed the weapon back to the Marine, who by the rank shown on his HUD was a Corporal. Lewis picked up his Sergeants Cap, and looked at the sky. In the distance, a flight of Hornets were in fierce combat with banshees. Their missiles made contrails in the sky. One of the banshees made a tight turn, and fired its' fuel rod cannon at the Hornet. The hornet stood still for a while, then it burst into flames. The body of the vehicle spun, fire spewing from its aft section. He followed the vehicle down into the forest. He was so wrapped up in the battle above him, he was spooked by a member of the assault squad. He was a young Private, probably no older than 16 Lewis thought. The UNSC was running low on personnel, and they went to conscripting anybody they could get their hands on. "Sergeant Major... I'm scared..." said the Private. "Its ok son, just keep your eyes front and your finger on the trigger." "Sergeant Major... have you ever been scared?" asked the Private. "Plenty of times kid... plenty of times." Lewis walked away from the Private, patting him on his back. Lewis took out his M6D Pistol, checked it and chambered its' explosive fifty caliber round. He slid it back into the holster, and he took out his M7 from his chest holster. He checked its sights, checked the magizine, and slid the butt out. He re-inserted the stock and put the M7 back into its proper place. The other Marines were checking their weapons, a mixture of MA5Cs, M7s, M6Gs, BR-55HB SRs and two SRS-99D S2-AMs. Lewis felt that this finely trained assault force was ready. He took out his TACMAP and checked the location. A former UNSC Camp... they probably have already eaten the survivors. Lewis thought. He spun his arm in the "rally" signal and they began to move out. -- AJ 3 EARTH //December 12th, 2552, 1200 Hours// //Sol System, Terra// //Australia, Sydney, HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6// Thick plumes of dark black acrid smoke rose up into the sky, dissipating slowly in the bright noon light. The putrid stench of sweat and stale fear covered the towering city and military bases. Sirens wailed in the distance, and cracked glass craters glistened in the sunlight. Burning wreckage of vehicles and aircraft littered the narrow streets, and burnt and charred bodies lay everywhere, some still smoking. Dead civilians lay on the ground, dirty with the city’s waste, ragged holes in their fashionable core world clothing. MA5C and BR55HB SR rifles, dropped from fleeing or dead soldiers lay on the ground; ammo counters still flickering, many with cooled spikes and burned holes in them. Injured humans crawled over the hot ground, blood leaking profusely from wounds, moaning and crying out for help. The clawed feet of a pair of Jackals emerged from a low lying one story officer building, clacking in delight, plasma pistols still, smoking, and the sound of the screams just now dissipating. They moved dartingly through the body littered area, unmercifully gunning down survivors. Some tried to flee, others accepted their death with courage and dignity; others still tried to hide, but the alien’s keen senses proved their efforts worthless. A pair of banshee fliers swooped overhead, scanning the city. Pieces of broken concrete from buildings provided hiding places for some, but few were so lucky. Covenant troops moved methodically through the city, rounding up survivors, herding them into tight nit groups, and then letting savage and depraved grunts tear through them. Two Jackals moved into a dark alleyway, sweeping it for survivors, sniffing the air, and scanning the shadows with their bright yellow eyes. They moved cautiously into the alley, pistols up, sweeping them over the area in wide circles. Suddenly, a muffled shot resounded through the alley, and one dropped, a glowing spike through its forehead. The other turned, its face live with anger, and then it stopped, looked down, and saw a pair of blades from a brute spiker sticking through its chest. It looked down for a moment, and then slumped over into a pool of its own blood. Half a dozen grunts trotted through a downtown plaza, plasma pistols and needlers clipped to their thighs and backs. Their patrol route was simple, and they were not horribly bright. However, they were highly vicious; they were among those who were allowed to tear the humans apart with their teeth. Among these grunts was one known as Dipgab, a slightly more intelligent grunt than normal. Still, he was not prepared for what would quickly happen. They moved out of the plaza, into an office building. Dipgab split his squad of twenty into five groups of four, and then sent them to sweep the base. He ushered his group behind him, hefting his plasma pistol in his small stubby hands. However, when he tried to contact his first group, they did not respond. But Dipgab wasn’t worried; he was not horribly smart, and the fact that they did not answer was not interpreted as anything significant, despite the fact that they were in the middle of a war zone. However, when the second, third, and fourth groups did not respond at all, and he heard detonations, he almost wet himself. As he tried to gather his wits, he noticed a sharp clacking sound, which they had taught him in training to associate with human shotguns. Suddenly, something hot and sharp cut through his abdomen, and he flopped to the ground. His vision grew hazy, and the world around him seemed blurred; all he could see was his bright, cyan colored blood leaking out of six holes in his stomach. He rolled over, spotting three of his friends and squad mates next to him. Then he saw the attacker, clad in drab olive armor, and hulking seven feet tall. He barely managed to scream, before he saw the giant cock its shotgun and fire. Everything went dark. Almost three kilometers away, a group of Brutes sat in the temporary encampment that they had set up, devouring pieces of meat that they had stolen from the human fresheners. Suddenly, one of them roared in surprise; a human demon clad in strangely mix-matched armor strode forward, brandishing a chieftain’s hammer with one hand, and a human launcher in the other. The assorted Brutes roared in rage and hatred and grief for their dead leader, and charged. The Spartan let loose two rockets then dropped the launcher and held the hammer with two hands. Four brutes flew into the air as the heat and overpressure waves slammed into them, burning the skin from their hides, and smashing them into the concrete walls of the buildings across the street. The Spartans stood unfazed as half a dozen other brutes charged, calmly ducking spiker bolts and brute shot grenades. It growled deep in its throat, sounding definitely feminine. Then, the brutes reached her, and she swung the hammer. It connected with brutal force in the Brute’s midsection, crushing its ribs in with a wet thud. The creature howled and died, as another Brute lashed out with a vicious punch. The Spartan ducked, dropped the hammer, and rolled into the Brute, knocking it over. She punched twice, hard, in its stomach, then leapt from the brute, and landed behind another. It swung to face her, whipping it’s spiker around—but it was to slow; she caught the weapon, and slammed the creatures arm upwards, sending the bladed bayonets slicing through the brute’s bone. The three remaining backed off, leveling their spikers and spraying wildly. But the Spartan ran full on, shields blazing, catching several rounds. She grabbed the brute shot off of the dead brute which had been her first victim and jumped high into the air. She landed on the shoulders of one brute and raked the oversized metal blade over its head, severing it clean off. The head of the decapitated brute rolled off of the body, and the body crumpled. But the Spartan was already moving. She fired half a dozen grenades into the stomach of another brute, and pieces of meat and bone splattered across her armor. The remaining brute roared, and charged, slashing wildly with the blade of its spiker, as well as the one of one of its dead comrades. The Spartan stood fast, then sidestepped at the last moment, dropped the Brute RPG, and grabbed the Brute’s neck as it hurtled past her with both hands, and twisted. A sickening crack echoed through the street as the Brute fell to the ground, head tilting at an unnatural angle. Across the city, a force assembled to hunt down the unknown killer or killers of these groups. A group of almost two hundred swept the city, killing everything, but the Spartans were no where to be found. However, they left something to remember them by: a Fury Tactical Nuclear Warhead. During the sweep, no one noticed the three olive shapes slipping into the outback, now kept as a wildlife preserve. Exactly two hours, ten minutes, and seventeen seconds later, the warhead detonating, obliterating what was left of the city. Hundreds of marines, ODSTs, and other personnel had died defending it. A fiery plume rushed out and consumed the buildings, and anyone who might have noticed anything never noticed anything every again. LUNA //December 12th, 2552, 1200 Hours// //Sol System, Lunar Surface// //Letronne Crater, Lunar Complex G/T/39 // Red warning lights signaling for combat procedures flashed in circles through a labyrinth of tunnels, and alarm klaxons blared painfully loud. The tunnels were filled to the brim with movement; soldiers, battle-hardened EABTs, moving through to their rally points in their large visored armor, pilots, willing to fly and fight and die in the cockpit, and technicians, keeping the base alive. Squads rallied at airlocks, and pilots sealed themselves into the cockpit of Rapier interceptors, trusting training and technology and even luck to get them through the hours and days ahead. The command center of the lunar garrison in the Letronne crater was buzzing with activity. Technicians, command personnel, and others frantically talked over the problem they now faced. On the view screen at the center of the command center, a tactical map of the crater, and the space beyond it had been laid out; detailing the desperate tactical situation they were in. A large oval was the center of the screen, and inside it was to large Xs in the middle, as well as seven small circles, some of which were solid, some of which were blinking rapidly, and others were faded, with red circles around them. Blue arrows dotted the space near these “nodes” and were angled towards the large Xs, signaling they were returning to base. In the middle of what seemed like a perfect storm, Commander Gregory Thompson stood apparently calmly, though he was not so calm on the inside. All around him, Lieutenants and aides rushed past, delivering messages about their situation. But to their confusion, he ignored them, and stood staring at the view screen, perhaps for a spark of inspiration. Little did they know that he was not ignoring them at all, but was in fact frozen with fear, and the world around him seemed to be moving dizzyingly fast. “Perimeter cameras are down, bat-packs got EMPed!” “Contact lost with Node Golf, hailing!” “I’ve got that radar ghost again; it’s moving on Southwest vector!” “Flak guns in mountain sector twelve are down; I think the backup power supply just got pulse!” “Toon A-J arriving at the base, they require immediate medical attention, dispatch now.” All of these seemed to flow over Gregory, he was so terrified. He had specifically gotten a reassignment to Luna after seeing several worlds glassed, and several friends murdered. Luna was in the Sol system; it was supposed to be quiet. He never thought deep down that the war would ever reach Sol. But it had. Even now, Covenant troops were encircling his base, and with them jamming his maser and radar, he couldn’t call for help. Searching for some relief, he reached down into his shirt slowly and drew a highly illegal stimulant that he had procured from a Russian dealer on his leave Earth side. No one noticed him snort it quickly, and for a moment, there was blessed oblivion. ---- //December 12th, 2552, 1300 Hours// //Sol System, Lunar Surface// //Letronne Crater, Node Golf// A boiling blue electric sun lit the air for a moment, and then crashed with devastating force into the main complex of Node H, known as the Putting Range to most of the EABTs, due to its phonetic name. Deep in trenches and cover, dozens of EABTs from D and E platoons of the 117th EABT Division scrambled as artillery fire rained down on them. Deep in the distance, a pair of hulking scarab tanks and two dozen wraiths rained death down on the small human force of 80, impossible odds. Covenant infantry charged, plasma and spike weapons blazing, and dozens fell in heaps of charred and spiky flesh. Fire from MA5B/VC and MA5C/VC Assault Rifles cut through the Covenant infantry from well placed and well aimed shots, but the hoard was too large. A devastating swath of green light flared, and a beam of plasma the size of a warthog exploded from the main cannon of the first scarab tank. Heat boiled away flesh and bone in an instant, and the humans fled before the unstoppable onslaught. Left and right, men and women fell, glowing spikes or burning plasma enveloping them. Gunfire lit the night, but it was rare, as more and more troops turned and fled or were cut down. A trio of bright blue spheres crashed into the small structure of the Putting Range, and when the plasma billowed away, all that was left was a crater, shining in the reflected light of Sol. There were no prisoners; not with the Covenant, not for human filth. Single spikes and bolts of plasma hit the craniums of any to injure to fight back or run, killing them instantly. In vacuum, no one heard them scream. Only half a dozen injured troops managed to escape the slaughter, and limp back to the UNSC base. Among these was Staff Sergeant Jack Richards, the only remaining member of his squadron. When the group of beleaguered EABTs finally spotted the garrison, there hearts jumped for joy. They were welcomed into the base among other survivors from similar massacres that were happening as the Covenant swept the flanks and prepared to assault the main base. Some groups were better off than Jack’s, others were worse. However, they were all sick with dread and grief, shocked by the death of their friends in the last few hours. Jack was similarly stunned, but as a Sergeant, he had duties to perform. He moved throughout the small part of the garrison were the survivors gathered, giving comfort and food, as well as weapons and ammunition. Before long, the EABT survivors had come to terms with their grief, and their sorrow had transformed into a burning desire for revenge. With vengeance in their hearts, they moved out to positions around the base, preparing for combat. Within the hour, the base was in much better shape than before. Squads of seasoned troops patrolled the perimeter, and snipers were perched on the hill to the North, weapons ready. A single mythos tank stood in the center of the base, its main cannon rippling with energy, its crew on high alert. Trenches were dug, sand bags laid, and turrets placed and linked to large ammo bases in the center of the complex. The base was ready for war, and the Covenant would happily oblige. ---- //December 12th, 2552, 1500 Hours// //Sol System, Lunar Surface, 3 Miles beneath surface// //Letronne Crater, Luna Garrison F/A/72// In the darkened hangar, sixty sleek, well maintained, and deadly Rapier interceptors sat silently in their launch pads inside the vertical shaft 100 yards long and wide. The Interceptors were motionless, and beautiful to the proper eye, in the way that a well maintained rifle was beautiful. The ship’s sleek lines and powerful engines gave it half again as much thrust as the common Longsword and its simple controls made a single pilot using it an option. The ship’s shining black finish gleamed in the reflected light of alarm lights, making it shine with a red sheen. In the cockpit of this small but powerful fighter, a single pilot sat at the controls, casually smoking a Sweet Williams cigar, unusual for a fighter pilot. It went against UNSC regulations, but Major Brock Juno didn’t care much for regulations. His hair was a mullet of black, and a dozen scars on his face were result of illegal fighting, drunken bar disputes, and other elicit activities. Juno was his own man, not the UNSC’s, and though he cared for his species and for his pilots, more so than even he realized, he also loved pissing people off, something that had kept him from promotion for years, despite his talent in the cockpit, and which had landed him a backwater assignment such as Luna. However he didn’t care; he got to help train the new jockeys straight out of launch, and humble them a bit too. Fighter pilots were notoriously arrogant, especially just out of the academy; he felt that it was his duty to wizen them up a bit (that, and he just loved bustin their balls). With the pungent smell of his Sweet Williams filling his cockpit, Juno felt more at peace than he’d been for a long time; this was partly because of the intoxication, and partly because he knew he’d finally see some real action, not just training recruits. He hadn’t seen combat for years, and even though his skill had not decreased over time, he was anxious to see the enemy once again, and in his new Rapier, no less. Juno knew that his role in this soon-to-be battle was dangerous. If the infantry managed to create a gap that the five squadrons in Luna Garrison F/A/72 could exploit, Brock and sixty other pilots would launch, and attempt to destroy a covenant picket craft just beyond the mountains, barely out of range of the hidden artillery hidden in their cliff sides. In the meantime, every pilot was on standby, and no one would launch until proper authorization was given. However, Juno didn’t care about the wait; better here in the cockpit with his Sweet Williams and with his small portable COMM pad blaring his favorite music than out ‘’’there’’’, trying to escape the crowds of EABTs moving throughout the place. He was absolutely content to stay right where he was, and see what happened next. Spartan 501 01:50, 28 November 2007 (UTC)